


All Apologies

by Abstract_Reality



Category: Life Is Strange (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate turn of events, Angst with a Happy Ending, Creepy Jefferson, F/M, Max/Nathan relationship/friendship, Nathan lives, non-canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-24
Updated: 2016-04-24
Packaged: 2018-06-04 03:53:58
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,502
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6640357
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Abstract_Reality/pseuds/Abstract_Reality
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This was originally going to be a story in which I explored Nathan's character through Max's eyes, and what could have happened if Nathan was around in the Dark Room. As I progressed, I realized I did not really explore Nathan's character as much as I explored what could have happened in Episode five. <br/>It follows the plot somewhat, some dialogue is included from the actual game. However, for the most part I am just exploring the possibilities for Nathan and his possible relationship (which can be seen as either platonic or romantic) with Max.</p>
            </blockquote>





	All Apologies

**Author's Note:**

> It's named All Apologies because that was the song I was listening to when I first started writing it. I was planning on changing it, but Nirvana came on when I was posting and it just felt appropriate.  
> I've never really explored the idea of "what if this one thing did/didn't happen" in my stories. But, this one was just on my mind for a while and I chose to experiment with it.

The world resembles a shaky photo, blurry and obscure. A hot light is hitting the side of her face, and her wrists sting whenever she tries to move her hands. The room smells like wet earth. She tries to reverse time, but all that gets her is a headache. Still, everything in her screams for her to try harder to go back. She needs to go back. Before the party. Before what happened. Before Chloe. God, all she can think about is Chloe. Every time she blinks she sees what happened, almost like the sight has been burned into the back of her brain. Her stomach is churning, and if she could, she would puke. 

 

Jefferson leans down next to her. He has a sick smile on his face. Her hand clenches. She can’t believe this fucking creep thinks that she’s just going to become another name on one of those red folders. She would bust his lip if she could. 

 

He snaps a picture of her and she wants to scream. He moves to get a better angle, and gives her a better view of the room. It’s dimly lit, and the lights cast long shadows against the back wall and the couch. Like ghosts or dark figures, with taunting forms. It almost feels like they're waiting for her to die. It fills her with a sense of dread.

 

Jefferson makes a sound in the back of his throat. He gets up and stands in front of Max, staring down at her with his camera in hand. She glares up at him. He laughs and lifts his camera up, snapping another one of his disgusting photos. “It’s too bad you wasted your gift on trash subjects, Max.”

 

Max musters enough energy to spit at his feet, and rasps, “Too bad great talent was wasted on your psychopathic ass.”

 

Jefferson gives her an angry look and leans down again, locking eyes with her. He reaches down and roughly grabs her face. He examines her for a moment, eyes looking right through her. He grimaces and stands again, then walks to a side table to mess with something. His back is towards her, and the shadows cast against the wall hit his back. The ominous sight makes her chest feel heavy. When he turns back, he has a needle. She must look afraid, because Jefferson chuckles. He grabs her face again, and she tries her best to twist away from his clutches. He justs grips her harder, thumbs pressing into her cheeks so hard she’ll surely have marks, and hushes her like a fussy child. 

 

He brings the needle to her neck, and she feels a small pinch. After what seems like ages, he removes the needle and moves away, surveying her. She struggles, slowly becoming extremely sluggish. She’s mentally screaming at herself to stay conscious. Her body feels heavy, and she keeps trying to rewind, to no avail. Eventually, her eyelids get too heavy to keep her eyes open anymore, and she feels herself drift away.

 

\----

 

When Max comes to, she’s slumped over in a chair. Her body feels stiff, and she tries to stretch out her limbs. Then she feels the restraints on her wrists. She doesn’t remember everything right away, so she begins to panic. She snaps her head up and pulls against them. She hears Jefferson chuckle, and glares at him on his place on the couch. He has a magazine in his hands, which he sets down when he sits up.

 

“Sorry that I was occupied with something else. You could barely keep your eyes open. And you just aren’t as...striking when you’re asleep. The shots I was taking were garbage, so I decided to kill some time.” He shrugs.

 

She pulls against her restraints again, and he just shakes his head. He grabs his camera and crouches down in front of her. He focuses on her and snaps a picture. When she gets free, she’s going to burn all his pictures. Jefferson stares at her for a moment, then laughs and reaches toward her cheek.

 

Max quickly moves her head and bites him on his hand. Hard.

 

With a hiss, he pulls his hand back. In a fit of rage, he brings his other hand back and strikes her, “You little fucking bitch!”

 

Her head spins. That fucking hurt. Her skin begins to warm, and he swiftly gets up. Jefferson begins to swear under his breath, rubbing his hurt hand. She can see that she drew blood, which fills her with a sense of satisfaction. He glares at her, and she smirks. It’s a small victory. At least, until he heads for the table with needles on it.

 

Panicked, she rewinds to the moment before he moves his hand towards her. 

 

Jefferson, so blissfully unaware of the pain he endured, brings a hand to her cheek. He runs his thumb over her jawline, lightly pressing into her skin. When he finally takes his hand away from her, she relaxes a bit in relief. He smiles, then stands to get a picture of her.

 

“It’s unfortunate. If you weren’t so inquisitive, you would have the chance to make it to 25.” Then he shrugs, “But we all know the phrase. Curiosity killed the cat.”

 

Max glares at him, moving her legs against her ankle restraints. Oh, the places she would kick if she could. He snaps another picture of her. However, before he can take anymore, the door opens and closes loudly. Much like a child, Jefferson huffs and turns toward the source of the sound angrily. He has a displeased look on his face. There is a moment of agonizing silence, and Max continues to twist against her restraints. They have to give out soon enough. Hopefully. 

 

Then, Nathan carries an unconscious Victoria Chase into the room, and she stops moving. She isn’t sure what she was expecting, but it wasn’t this. 

 

Nathan looks haggard. His face has several cuts and bruises, presumably from when Warren freaked out on him. It’s impossible to tell whether the dark circles under his eyes are from a lack of sleep or just part of the damage. Maybe it’s a combination of both. His hands are shaking, and he’s breathing pretty hard. Jefferson clears his throat, and the blonde practically jumps out of his skin. “Nice for you to make an appearance Nathan. You can drop Miss Chase on the couch.”

 

Nathan manages to bring Victoria to the couch. He puts her down carefully, not wanting to hurt her. The ties around her wrists leave small red marks on her skin, but other than those faint lines, there isn’t a single mark on her. If Max didn’t know any better, she would just assume the blonde girl had just fallen asleep. Nathan, who is visibly distressed, pulls a cigarette out of his pocket and lights it. He hasn't even glanced her way, and she isn't sure if it's because he's nervous, or if it's because he's scared. Maybe he can’t look at her because he knows she could very well be a corpse by morning. 

 

Jefferson makes a face and holds the needle out to Nathan. “Put out the fucking cigarette. I have to go grab some things from my car. Think you can manage Max while I’m gone?”

 

Nathan nods and throws the cigarette on the floor, stomping it out. He takes the needle without a word. Part of her feels betrayed, and another part of her feels relieved, this could give her a chance. Jefferson makes a face of disgust at the stomped out cigarette, but waits for Nathan to indicate whether or not he can handle this. Nathan, catching on, clears his throat, “I can take care of things for a few minutes. No problem.”

 

“Good.” Jefferson comments, before also shoving his camera towards Nathan. He takes it with shaky hands. Jefferson gazes around the room for a moment, before excusing himself. 

 

The door closes loudly, causing Nathan to jump again. For a moment, the only noise in the room is from the raging storm outside. Max stares at Nathan, but he doesn’t look at her at all. Almost like he’s frozen in place. She swallows, her throat feels like it’s closing in. Her mind is filled with doubt and concern. What if she can’t do anything to help herself or anyone else? What happens then? What will Jefferson do to Victoria? What will he do to Nathan? What will happen to the town? She lets out a shaky breath and mentally prepares herself for the worst. She can always rewind if anything goes wrong. She watches as Nathan puts the camera down, putting his back to her.

 

“Nathan..” Max whispers, tentatively trying to get the boy’s attention. He stiffens in surprise, but he doesn’t jump like he did when Jefferson addressed him. He turns back around. They lock eyes, but he doesn’t say anything. He just stares at her.

 

“Nathan..” Max tries again, only a little more firm this time. She knows he hears her, but he is just staring right through her. As if he isn’t even present in the room at all. Hesitantly, she leans forward a little and addresses him again. “Nathan. Nathan!”

 

“ _ Shut up..”  _ Nathan practically wails. 

 

He grabs a fistful of his own hair and begins to pace back and forth. She shouldn’t have raised her voice. She can’t push him too hard. He’s fragile. She tries to calm him down, console him. However, he just continues to spiral. He starts to shake, and tears start rolling down his cheeks. His pacing becomes more frantic, and then, all of a sudden, he bumps into the table that he set the camera down on. The camera falls to the floor and the lens shatters, creating a mess all over the floor. Nathan becomes more distressed, as he immediately crouches down and starts picking up lens shards, cutting himself in the process. Max knows that this has rendered him useless.

 

Feeling terrible for him, Max rewinds. She needs him competent, so she needs to take a different approach to this. She clears her throat.

 

“Nathan...please…” Her voice is much softer now. Nathan turns and stares at her for a while this time. Almost like he’s confused. She tries to lean in closer to him. The chair creaks as she pulls against her restraints. This causes Nathan to freak out on her.

 

“Stop fucking moving you Spaz!” He grabs the needle and rushes towards her, worried that she could get free. 

 

Panic. Rewind.

 

“Nathan...I need you to let me go…” She doesn’t know why that one would be any better than the last two. It isn’t, as he immediately shuts down and begins to pace like before.

 

Same outcome as the first attempt. Rewind.

 

She feels something wet trickle down from her nose to her lip. Great. A nose bleed. She doesn’t want to rewind too much. She can’t afford losing her rewind power, this can’t be a repeat of when Kate was on the roof. Nathan is still turned around. Max desperately scans the room for anything she can talk to him about. Something to make him want to help her, instead of something that makes him freak out. Her eyes land on Victoria. So untouched, almost like she’s sleeping. He didn’t want a single mark on her. He didn’t want her to get hurt. He probably doesn’t want anyone hurt. 

 

She could use that, as bad as that sounds. “Nathan...I’m bleeding…will-will you please clean me off?”

 

He looks over his shoulder. For a second, Max wonders if he’ll break down. But, he doesn’t. At least, not at the sight of her blood. Not yet. Hopefully not at all. He walks over to her and crouches before her. He’s breathing hard, and his hands are shaky. Slowly, he brings a hand up to her face. She flinches when his fingertips touch her cheek, remembering the sting of Jefferson’s slap. He stops for a moment, but she nods a little, to tell him to proceed. Gently, he holds her face steady with one hand, and wipes the blood from her face with his sleeve. His hands are so cold. They stare at each other for a moment, before he removes his hand from her face. Then, unexpectedly, he puts his head in his hands. He’s curled in front of her like a scared child, and she isn’t sure what that means.

 

“Thank you Nathan…” She whispers softly. His whole body shivers. He peeks up at her. Desperate, Max moves her wrists a little and tries to plead with the blond boy. “I-I know you don’t want anybody to get hurt...”

 

He lets out a shaky breath. It seems like he wouldn’t be able to stay still, even if he wanted to. He puts his hands on his knees, uncurling himself slightly. “I’m sorry Max...I didn’t want any of this to happen..”

 

“I know...I know..” She breathes. They lock eyes. “Please...Don’t let him hurt me Nathan.”

 

Nathan begins to shake his head, unsure of what to do. How to reply. Max leans forward as much as she can, getting closer to him so that he only sees her face. The bindings on her wrists dig into her skin and tears well up in her eyes. Because she’s so unsure, so dependent on something she can’t even guarantee. “ _ Please  _ Nathan. I-I’m  _ scared.”  _

 

He stares into her eyes, searching for anything. Anything to tell him she is lying. But she’s telling the truth. She is scared. She is very scared. And she definitely needs his help. Without a word, he rises slowly and goes back towards the table. He turns his back towards her and lights a cigarette, staring down at the floor. She sits back in her seat, wrists red and stomach churning. It seems like this is all in his hands now.

 

Max doesn't know what else she could do, if he can't bring himself to help her. She could rewind. She could go back to when she first woke up in the chair. But what could that do? She would end up here again. Maybe a couple minutes later, or maybe with a couple more bruises. 

 

Minutes pass before the door to the shelter creaks open. Jefferson strides in and throws a tarp and a shovel on the floor. Nathan jumps as the items clang on the floor, nervously rolling the filter of his cigarette in his fingers to calm himself. He has something on his mind, it’s very clear. Jefferson eyes the cigarette critically, but doesn’t say anything. Everything appears fine to him, so he won’t explore any further.

 

All Jefferson cares about is getting rid of her, and he won’t do anything to jeopardize it.

 

He takes some latex gloves off of a nearby table and puts them. Then he throws a pair at Nathan, who fails to catch them. Jefferson rolls his eyes as the blond fumble around to pick them up, dropping his cigarette in the process. He walks over and stomps the cigarette out, making Nathan shudder, and then goes over to his table. He grabs the needle and stands in front of Max. He stares down at her with an unreadable expression.

 

“Any last requests?” Jefferson asks. Max looks over to Nathan, who is crouched down with his eyes pointed towards the floor. She searches for answers, anything that she can say that will give her more time. She grips the arms of the chair, her head is spinning and her heart is racing. She doesn’t know what to do. She could rewind, but then what? She could make a request, but what could she ask for that could potentially save her? He wouldn't let her focus on a photo long enough. He wouldn't let her out of the chair. She can't do anything, and she suddenly feels very sick. She stares up at Jefferson, who is waiting for an answer.

 

“No.” She chokes out. Nathan drops his head and clenches his fists. 

 

Max knows exactly how powerless he feels. Not that she can blame him.

 

“Alright then.” Jefferson remarks. He brings the needle towards her neck, and Max takes a deep breath, closing her eyes.  She can feel Jefferson’s hand on her head, forcing her to crane her neck so he can get it over with. Involuntarily, tears begin to stream down her cheeks. She tries to ignore how scared she is, and instead attempts to comfort herself. It won’t hurt, she rationalizes. It will be quick, she figures. At least she’ll be with Chloe. Poor, undeserving Chloe, the world never gave her a chance. She never had any time to actually  _ live. _

 

Max, apparently, seems to have run out of time as well.

 

Then, all of a sudden, a scraping noise breaks the silence in the room, and Jefferson immediately lets her head go. She opens her eyes, only to see Nathan gripping the shovel so tight it might break in half. Jefferson takes a few steps back, behind her.

 

“What are you doing, Nathan?”

 

Nathan is as pale as a sheet, and he’s shaking even worse than before. Max can’t believe that he’s standing up to Jefferson right now. Apparently, he can’t either, because he sounds more nervous than she is. “I-I can’t let y-you do this.”

 

“Oh, and how are you gonna stop me? You have a fucking shovel. And I-” he puts the needle back to her neck, “can kill Max right now.”

 

Nathan stares at her, and Max immediately reminds to a few minutes before. 

 

She thought Nathan wasn’t going to do anything. She clearly got him to feel bad for her, but she didn’t think that was enough. She was going to resign to her fate, allow Jefferson to kill her. Because what’s the point in living if everyone you know and love is going to die? But Nathan, he is giving her a chance. He can get her out of here, and she can fix everything.

 

Jefferson breaks her away from her thoughts. “Any last requests?”

 

“Could...” Think, Max, think! “could you please play some music? So I can drift away...”

 

“Even in the end, you’re still a dreamer Max.” He comments, before heading over to his cupboard to turn on a record.

 

Max looks over at Nathan, staring directly at him. This time, his eyes are no longer on the floor. They’re on her. 

 

Jefferson puts on a record, and heads back over to Max. She watches as Nathan slowly picks up the shovel and rises. A shadow comes over his face, making the sight eerie. Then she looks up at Jefferson, who is completely unaware. Jefferson looks down at her, then forces her to crane her neck. She closes her eyes, taking a deep breath. The music is unnerving, just like this whole situation. She holds her breath, hoping that Jefferson doesn’t see Nathan coming.

 

Seconds seem to pass by agonizingly slow. But, she hears an impact, followed by a loud  _ thud _ and a shovel being dropped. She lets out a sigh of relief when cold hands touch hers, and she opens her eyes. Nathan is in front her, white as a sheet and shaking. He pulls off the restraints on her wrists, and they work together to get her ankles free. He stands and gives her his hand, gently helping her to her feet.

 

The record stops, but the storm outside rages on, filling the sudden silence in the bunker. Max looks up at Nathan and opens her mouth to say something, but nothing comes out. Nathan doesn’t seem to know what to say either. He glances down at her red wrists, and he gets this look in his eyes. It’s a look of regret, and familiarity. He grips her hand tightly, not to hurt her but to ground himself long enough to say something.

 

“I-” he swallows hard and looks her in the eyes, “I’m sorry, Max. I didn’t think-”

 

“It’s okay. It’s not your fault. You aren’t the monster. Jefferson is.” She reciprocates his tight grip, and a weight seems to be lifted from his shoulders. Max is empathetic, he must be dealing with so much guilt and grief. She lets go of his hand, and he stuffs his hands in his pockets.

 

Max allows herself to look at Jefferson on the floor. He fell on his side, allowing a full view of his face. The left side of his face has a large, red mark from the impact of the shovel. The right side of his face only has a small wound, probably from when he fell to the floor. His glasses are close by, with a large crack on the left lense, and the needle seems to have rolled under the chair. 

 

Max takes a deep breath.  “We need to tie him up.”

 

Nathan is surprised by Max’s statement. He looks over at Jefferson, then back at her. He seems conflicted, but doesn't argue. If Jefferson is free when he wakes up, they can’t guarantee they can overpower him. They walk over to Jefferson’s cabinet. It’s fairly neat. Everything seems to have a place. Max searches for something she can use. When she looks in the bottom drawer of the cabinet, she finds two terrifying items. Duct tape, and a gun. She swallows hard, and looks over at Nathan. He doesn’t let himself look at them. 

 

She grabs the roll of duct tape, and Nathan turns away from her slightly. He’s nervous, and even though she is too, she forces herself to be brave.  She takes a deep breath, “I’ll do it.” 

 

Max walks over to him, slowly and quietly. The storm continues to rage on outside, but she can barely hear it over the loud pounding in her ears. Her heart is racing, and it feels like there’s a lump in her throat. Fear seems to be making her stiff, as every step feels like it’s taking longer and longer. By the time she gets close to him, she feels like a stone statue. She puts her foot out first, lightly touching his arm.

 

That’s when he opens his eyes, and she regrets poking the sleeping bear.

 

He reacts much faster than she does, grabbing her ankle and pulling her foot out from underneath her. For a second, Max doesn’t seem to be touching the floor at all. But then her body comes in contact with the ground, and her head hits the floor. Hard. Black clouds her vision, and the wind is knocked out of her. She closes her eyes and gasps for air. She can’t gather her thoughts. She’s so confused. And to top it off, she’s absolutely terrified. She has no idea where anyone is. All she knows about the situation is that Nathan is shouting, but she doesn’t know what he’s saying. Max tries her best to calm herself, and focus on what’s happening. She needs to know if she has to rewind. 

 

She cranes her head back in an attempt to understand what’s going on. The whole world is upside-down, but she can see Jefferson push Nathan into the cabinet, then onto the floor. Jefferson is standing over him, and she panics. She has to help him. Taking a deep breath, Max forces herself onto her stomach. But that makes her dizzy, and she presses her forehead to the cold floor. Part of her is concerned that she could have a concussion.  Another part of her wants to laugh at herself for being worried over something that, at the moment, isn’t important.

 

Then, out of nowhere, there’s a gunshot, and her mind goes blank. 

 

The world feels like it’s in slow-motion as she looks up. Her heart stops when she sees Nathan. This time, he’s standing over Jefferson, gun in hand. The sight is eerily reminiscent of that day in the bathroom. 

 

Nathan looks over at Max, and their eyes meet. He walks over and drops in front of her. He's pale and sweaty. His breathing is heavy, almost like he’s struggling to take in air. He’s looking right through her. The gun is still in his hand, and he’s clinging so tightly to the grip his knuckles are white. 

 

“Nathan...” She manages to sit up, ignoring the drum circle that’s occurring inside her skull, and slowly puts her hand out in front of him, “Nathan…give me the gun.”

 

Nathan looks at her in surprise. For a moment, he was so lost in his own world that he forgot Max was even there. Without a word, he puts the gun in her hand, and she sets it off to the side. She doesn’t think that he would try to hurt her. But she doesn’t want to see it in his hand. It makes him look like something that he isn’t.

 

Nathan stares at her and slowly brings his hand to her face. His cold palm touches her warm cheek. Then, he brings his hand to her hair, running his fingers through it and setting his hand on the back of her head. He's making sure she isn't bleeding, and she's grateful.

 

Then, unexpectedly, he pulls her forward. Her cheek gets pressed against his chest, and she can hear his heartbeat. He shushes her and curls her hair in his hand softly. “It’s over, Max.”

 

Max is surprised. She didn’t know how much she needed to hear someone say that until now. It makes her feel safe. 

 

She brings her arms up and wraps them around Nathan’s neck, and he puts his free hand in the center of her back. All her feelings come crashing down on her all at once. Tears well up in her eyes, and she quietly begins to sob into his chest. She feels so happy to be alive, but at the same time she feels so guilty. They're safe, but she regrets not trusting Nathan before. How could she ever think he would be willing to hurt the people around him? How could she not see his pain? She can't suppress the part of her that thinks she doesn’t deserve his comfort because she was so blind. And she's also afraid about what needs to happen next. What will happen to Nathan? To Chloe? To Jefferson? To her? Every possibility she can think of is terrifying. 

 

“Thank you Nathan.” Max gasps, looking up at him. He has tears in his eyes too. “I’m so sorry for thinking that..”

 

“It’s okay.” Nathan mumbles. Then, he hugs her tightly once more, repeating the words over and over again. “It’s okay. It’s all over now. You’re okay. We’re okay.”

 

Outside, the storm rages on. Max knows that she will have to face it soon, and everything will change. And there’s no way to know that things will be for the better. 

 

Inside, they are okay. After so much grief and strife, they are both okay. And that’s okay.

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry if it wasn't your cup of tea. If it was your cup of tea, awesome!  
> Either way, thank you for taking time to read my fic :)  
> Also, if you thought the ending was a little stale, sorry. I did my best.


End file.
